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Authors: William W. Johnstone

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BOOK: Home Invasion
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C
HAPTER 18

Alex tried to put the trial and everything about the Navarre case out of her mind when she got home that evening. It was the first day of Jack’s final year in high school, and she wanted to hear all about that instead. She didn’t even want to think about what was going on in the county seat.

That was all he wanted to talk about, though. He brushed aside her questions about school and asked her about the trial. Alex told him what she could—Dave Rutherford had cautioned all the witnesses about talking too much about the trial, even with family members—and Jack seemed frustrated that she couldn’t tell him even more.

“Really, I don’t
know
anything else,” she assured him. “I haven’t even been inside the courtroom except for a few minutes this morning before the trial even started.”

“There’s a lot of talk at school about how mad everybody’s gonna be if Mr. McNamara loses,” Jack said.

“Everybody needs to just settle down and let the law run its course. Getting mad isn’t going to help anything.”

“Yeah, well… what if the course the law takes is the wrong one?”

Alex didn’t have an answer for that. The part of her that believed in the legal system wanted to think that whatever finding the courts reached had to be the correct and proper one.

The part of her that had watched objectively what had happened over the past ten or twelve years since the liberals had taken over Washington completely knew that wasn’t necessarily the case.

She didn’t feel any better about things when she arrived at the courthouse the next morning, but at least she didn’t have to sit around for very long, stewing and waiting. She had only been sitting in the corridor about five minutes when a bailiff opened the courtroom doors and said, “Ms. Bonner?”

“Chief Bonner,” Alex said as she stood up. She didn’t want to get pissy about it, but that was her title after all.

The bailiff didn’t seem offended. He smiled and said, “Please come in, Chief. You’ve been called to the stand.”

Alex had testified in plenty of court cases before. She knew the drill. She went to the witness stand and was sworn in, then sat down to await the questioning. Cochrum was still sitting at the plaintiff’s table, whispering to the blonde.

Judge Carson said, “Mr. Cochrum? Are you ready?” The judge was in late middle-age, a slight, gray-haired man with a heavily lined face.

Cochrum got to his feet. “Yes, sir, Your Honor,” he said as he came toward the witness stand. Alex thought the lawyer’s suit probably cost as much as she made in a month. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses in the courtroom, of course, but other than that he looked like the same smug, smarmy weasel he did when he was preening for the cameras.

He stopped in front of Alex and said, “Good morning, Chief Bonner. How are you this morning?”

“I’ve been better,” Alex said, not bothering to keep the curt annoyance out of her voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Just for the record, you
are
the chief of police in the city of Home, Texas, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Alex said.

“And also for the record, you understand that I have called you to testify for the plaintiff as a hostile witness.”

“Yes.” She was definitely hostile, and she didn’t care who knew it.

“Now, I believe that on the night of June eighth of this year, you were at your residence when you received a call from the night dispatcher at the police department?”

“That’s right.”

“In your own words and to the best of your recollection, please tell us what was said during that call and what you did afterward.”

This was simple, straightforward testimony, and Alex went through it as quickly as she could. She expected Cochrum to try to slant things with his questions, but surprisingly, he didn’t. He was just as matter of fact as she was.

Somehow, that worried her even more. Cochrum was setting them up for something, she thought, and he wouldn’t be doing that unless he was confident that he had a pretty powerful secret weapon on his side.

“Now, this weapon you say was lying on the floor near Mr. Navarre,” Cochrum said. “Did you ever see it in his hand?”

“No, I didn’t,” Alex said. “But a subsequent test showed that his fingerprints were on it.”

“Had it been fired?”

“There was no way I could be sure of that, one way or the other.”

“But you’re an experienced police officer, Chief,” Cochrum said. “In your professional opinion, did it
appear
to have been fired recently? Did it
smell
like it had been fired?”

“The whole room still smelled like guns had been fired there,” Alex said. “I didn’t bother smelling Mr. Navarre’s gun in particular because I knew the crime scene technicians from the sheriff’s department would test it and make the determination of whether or not it had been fired.”

“And did they make those tests?”

“They did.”

“What was the determination?”

Alex didn’t want to say it, but she didn’t have any choice. “The tests showed that Mr. Navarre’s weapon had not been fired on the night in question.”

Cochrum smiled. “And since that’s the only time we’re concerned with here, that proves my client could not have shot anyone that night.”

“That’s not a question, but if it was, I’d have to answer no, that doesn’t prove any such thing.”

Alex spoke quickly, so she could get it in before Cochrum had a chance to shut her up. She was rewarded by a momentary flash of anger in his eyes. So he was human enough to get mad, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It proves that your client
didn’t
shoot anybody that night. But the fact that his fingerprints were on the weapon prove that he
could
have. He had the potential to—”

“You’ve answered the question, Chief Bonner.”

“You asked me what I meant by it. I was just telling you.”

That brought some laughter from the spectators. Judge Carson glared at them, but didn’t issue a warning.

“All right, Chief, I have no further questions.” Cochrum swung around and went back to the table.

The judge looked at the defense table. Everett Hobson stood up and said, “No questions at this time, Your Honor, but the defense reserves the right to call Chief Bonner as a witness on our behalf.”

“Noted,” Judge Carson said. “You may step down, Ms. Bonner.”

She didn’t correct him on the title. She just got out of there.

It hadn’t been too bad, Alex mused as she took her seat in the hall again. The little skirmish with Cochrum hadn’t amounted to much, and she thought she had held her own against him. She didn’t really understand his strategy, but she remained convinced that he was going to pull
something
underhanded before the trial was over.

She had been sitting there for only a few minutes when an uproar suddenly erupted inside the courtroom. It was loud enough for Alex to hear it clearly, including the shocked cries and the banging of the judge’s gavel as he hammered for order. A minute later, the doors opened and several reporters burst out. The print reporters were clawing cell phones from their pockets to call their papers. The broadcast reporters were practically sprinting for their camera crews.

Alex’s heart sank. Something had happened, and she was sure it was something bad.

She stood up and headed for the door, determined to go in there and find out what was going on. Before she could get there, Rosario Encinal strode out, looking beautiful and regal as she was surrounded by reporters. The federal attorney smiled and said, “Mr. Cochrum and I will be having a press conference shortly, and I’ll be glad to answer all your questions then.”

Alex stared at Encinal as the woman swept past her. Had she said that she and
Cochrum
were going to be holding a press conference? That made no sense. They were on opposite sides.

Unless they weren’t.

As that thought went through Alex’s mind, she hurried into the courtroom. Dave Rutherford, Joe Gutierrez, and Everett Hobson were talking animatedly as they stood behind the defense table, and none of them looked happy. Pete McNamara still sat there, looking stunned and more dispirited than ever. The three attorneys for the gun manufacturer were gathering up their papers. They wore disgusted expressions on their faces. When they had finished packing up their briefcases, they stalked out.

The conference between the three remaining lawyers broke up. Gutierrez sat down beside his client and put an arm around the old man’s shoulders. Whatever he was saying didn’t appear to do any good. Pete McNamara still looked beaten down to nothing.

District Attorney Hobson and his assistant, Janet Garcia, hustled out of the courtroom as well, bent on some errand that seemed hopeless, judging by the expressions on their faces. Dave Rutherford turned, saw Alex, and motioned for her to come over. She went to the railing and rested her hands on it. The benches behind her had cleared of spectators, but there was still an angry commotion going on out in the hallway and the courthouse lobby.

“Dave, what in the world happened?”

Rutherford’s mouth quirked in a humorless smile. “Cochrum rested his case.”

“Already? He didn’t even put Navarre on the stand?”

“He didn’t need to.” Rutherford drew in a deep breath. “Before he rested, he announced that he’d filed papers to have the United States government dropped from the lawsuit. It seems that Navarre has reached a separate settlement with the feds.”

“Wait a minute. A settlement? But that would mean …”

Rutherford nodded. “Yes. The federal government is going to acknowledge that Emilio Navarre’s civil rights were violated when Pete McNamara shot him. I’m sure that Cochrum and Ms. Encinal will be announcing the terms shortly. I suspect a lot of money will change hands.”

The implications of that mushroomed through Alex’s mind. Her hands tightened on the railing. “How can the state win a criminal case against Navarre when the federal government has already said that he’s right and Pete was wrong?”

“It can’t,” Rutherford said as he shook his head. “The jury pool will be irrevocably tainted. Hell, the whole country will be tainted.”

“What about this case? Surely what Cochrum has done is grounds for a mistrial.”

“Yes, but don’t you see, Alex?” Rutherford’s face was bleak. “It
doesn’t matter.
If the case proceeds, the jury knows that the feds have already sided with Navarre. Maybe they’ll rule in favor of Mr. McNamara anyway. But if they do, Cochrum will just appeal, and a higher court will set the judgment aside. Even if it goes all the way to the Supreme Court, in the end Navarre will win. It’s
over,
Alex. No matter how much we try to stretch things out, it’s over.”

She felt sick to her stomach, and she was dizzy enough that her grip on the railing was all that kept her from collapsing. She had devoted her adult life to enforcing the law—hell, that devotion had cost her her marriage—and now the legal system had just declared that it was all right to break into somebody’s home and murder the occupants, and if anybody dared to fight back,
they
were in the wrong, not the criminals who had broken in to start with.

“This is crazy, Dave. Just crazy. “ She looked at the forlorn figure of Pete McNamara. “Will Pete wind up going to jail?”

“I seriously doubt it, although Everett may have to charge him, just for appearance’s sake. But they can work out some sort of plea deal so that Mr. McNamara won’t have to spend any time behind bars.”

“But he’ll be a convicted felon, just for defending his home. This is going to
kill
him, Dave.”

Rutherford shrugged. “I hope not, but there’s nothing we can do. Cochrum outfoxed us, plain and simple.” His face hardened. “I think he’s had the deal worked out with that bitch all along. And she’s just acting for her bosses in Washington. That’s where the real stench comes from. Somebody high up has been planning all along for Navarre to win.”

“How high?”

A hollow laugh came from the lawyer. “Who made a call for a lot stricter gun laws a major part of his campaign?”

The same thought had occurred to Alex. “You really think the President would side with a Mexican murderer over a citizen of his own country?”

“If it helps him remake the U.S. into what
he
and his cronies think the country should be, then what do you believe, Alex?”

She knew the answer to that. She hated to think it, but she knew.

“There’s something else we have to consider, Dave. This isn’t going to go over well with folks in Home. There’s liable to be trouble. People are going to be mad, and they may take to the streets to express it.”

“The sheriff’s department will have to keep order, along with the officers you left back there.”

“I need to go—”

Rutherford shook his head. “You can’t. The judge called an hour’s recess when all hell broke loose, but the trial will resume when that’s over. You’re still a witness.”

“You’re going to play out the string, even after what happened?”

“What else can we do?” he asked with a faint smile. “If we quit now, there’s no chance the jury won’t find in favor of Navarre.”

“I thought you said it didn’t matter.”

“In the long run, it doesn’t. But… well… some windmills just have to be tilted at, don’t they?”

“The Solicitor General is on the phone, sir.”

He scooped it up and barked, “Talk to me, Ted. Did it go as planned?” A big smile, the smile that the media loved, spread across his face. “Excellent! Be sure and tell Ms. Encinal how pleased I am with the way she carried out her part. And of course you’ll be prepared for further proceedings if necessary? … Good”

The smile disappeared as he hung up the phone. A chief executive had to be able to multitask, so there were other things on his mind today.

“Any word on Trussell, Geoff?”

“No, sir. He still appears to have dropped off the face of the earth”

“What about those two rogue CIA agents? They’re still missing, too, aren’t they?”

“Yes, sir”

“Well, then, Geoff”—the mild, conciliatory tone became a bellow of anger—"did it ever occur to you that they’ve probably got Trussell and are lying low with him somewhere?”

BOOK: Home Invasion
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